


WTF

by Mirkys_Concubine



Category: The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Alpha Clint Barton, Alpha Steve Rogers, Alpha Tony Stark, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Bad Spanish, Beta Bruce Banner, Daddy Issues, Dysfunctional Family, F/M, Fear, Gen, M/M, Mildly Dubious Consent, Mommy Issues, Multi, Non-Traditional Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Pack Feels, Past Abuse, Past Violence, Polyamorous Pack, Reader-Insert, Sharing a Bed, Soulmate-Identifying Marks, Stalking, Swearing, Tags May Change
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-08-12
Updated: 2020-08-12
Packaged: 2021-03-06 03:20:39
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 19,312
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25866583
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mirkys_Concubine/pseuds/Mirkys_Concubine
Summary: Reader insert. **** replaces y/n.Excerpt:It's one of those things you don't talk about or even acknowledge. They're the marks on your arm, the delicate filigree of names that's a jumble of mess. A pretty mess but one that gives you anxiety because it's not /normal. Nothing about your arm represents anything you want because... Ugh... Even in your thoughts it was difficult to say.It was part shame.Part denial.Part self loathing.Nothing good came from the ruin that was your forearm.Normal people had one, few people had two, and rarely did an Omega have a pack and that's what your markings meant.Pack Mate.Whore.Omega.My take on Omega pack mates. Omega's with a bite vs the overly submissive traits.
Relationships: Bruce Banner/Clint Barton/Steve Rogers/Tony Stark, Bruce Banner/Original Female Character(s), Bruce Banner/Reader, Clint Barton/Original Female Character(s), Clint Barton/Reader, Steve Rogers/Original Female Character(s), Steve Rogers/Reader, Tony Stark/Original Female Character(s), Tony Stark/Reader
Comments: 20
Kudos: 137





	1. Who the Fuck are you?

**Author's Note:**

> Original summary:  
> You're an Omega whose family happens to be a local 'gang', you have a roommate, you work, and you do your best NOT to catch the attention of your mates.  
> Not because of who they are, never got that far in caring, but because someone from your past is watching you.  
> Sigh. Shit about to hit the fan as you try and beat down your demons and keep your mates at arms length.

**WTF**

> ###  _From our first meeting, our spirits began touching one another. You were recognized by my heart before my eyes understood who you were. – Unk_

* * *

Part 1:

It's one of those things you don't talk about or even acknowledge. They're the marks on your arm, the delicate filigree of names that's a jumble of mess. A pretty mess but one that gives you anxiety because it's not _normal_. Nothing about your arm represents anything you want because... Ugh... Even in your thoughts it was difficult to say.

It was part shame.

Part denial.

Part self loathing.

Nothing good came from the ruin that was your forearm. 

Normal people had one, few people had two, and rarely did an Omega have a pack and that's what your markings meant.

Pack Mate.

Whore.

Omega.

Ugh! You run faster, sweat stinging your eyes. The hot and humid morning should have deterred you but the itchiness beneath your skin was enough to throw you in gear and push yourself faster. You **hated** exercise. Abhorred it as much as you hated your arm but it was the only way to control the mess that was your life.

You ran, you swam, you took classes to beat shit up when you could afford it, and limited your caloric intake, anything and everything to not be what the universe deemed you as.

Coming to a stop by the dog park you take a moment to sip water from the fountain and appreciate the few dogs and several people mingling. "Alright girl, positive thoughts, positive thoughts, go home, shower, and work." The pep talk isn't much but it's a list you follow.

Some time later a man comes running down the same path you'd taken, a frantic look on his face. The man is tall, broad-shouldered, a familiar man to many, but he's ignoring the curious glances as his nose tilts up and sniffs before moving to the water fountain. 

He looks around and spots a security camera that's angled into the dog park but also hopefully the water fountain. Moving to keep after the waning trail he reaches a dead end.

.

The Chinese food is packed in boxes and stinks up your car. Which yay. Your car sits with its blinkers on and a sign stating you're delivering as you carefully make three trips. Three. The security guard takes his time checking over the food and you rock on your heels before you're allowed to leave. 

It should have been exciting to deliver to Stark Tower and while you was tempted to scribble smiley faces randomly you don't. Jumping in your car you return to your delivery route before heading home and dressing for your next job. 

New York was expensive.

Oblivious you don't see a frantic looking man followed by several others storming the security office trying to sniff you out or how the one with a metal arm keeps a tall one from running after your car that's long gone.

Blissfully ignorant of just how fucked you were.

.

It's not the way you expect to meet a mate. You don't ever expect to meet any of them, not as if you could make out their names on your arm but still. It's not the _best_ first impression but you're not embarrassed. 

Hell to the no.

Scruples was a sassy semi classy _Gentleman's Club_ with women that danced but it was nicer than any of the other clubs you bartended at. It was clean and the food wasn't half bad. Your uniform wasn't an annoying corset unlike the last place and best of all you were allowed to wear sneakers instead of heels.

Points for that.

The halter top - dress - thing - swooped low. Technically you should have worn pasties but none of the other girls bothered and management cared less, so if you angled your body a certain way or prepared shaken drinks with more body flair then that was your business. 

No shame.

Just shy and bashful apologies because most men loved the innocent girl act as much as they appreciated the dirty side of false promises and glimpses of more than just cleavage. 

While you normally made a decent amount in tips you had taken a shift during a slow period. Which didn't bother you much, it allowed you to play a little. If the bar wasnt busy you'd join the ladies on stage. The manager didn't say much as the man was busy on his phone and while you couldn't twirl and do party tricks you could move your hips to the beat and have a little fun, better than cleaning bottles.

Not like there was anything wrong with kissing girls.

On stage.

With a bunch of men watching.

Barbie - yes Barbie - Didn't mind. 

The woman was tall, tanned, blond, and absolutely brilliant mother of four and had a wicked sense of humor. "You got an admirer." She says, lip gloss shining under the lights. "Left front row." She turns you around and you grind against her, the beat of the music more interesting than the small crowd that tossed a few bills in your direction. 

Your eyes drag in the direction she pointed out, it's only a glance, a man wearing tinted glasses and a beard/mustache combo. Pretty sure the man was looking at the rack held perky by strings and faith, you shake your ass as Barbie lifts up your dress to your waist and you can't help but laugh as the woman smacks a beat on your cheeks. 

The crowd cheers.

Bills decorate the stage.

You finish up the song before leaving with one last kiss and returning to your station where the manager - eyes still glued to the phone - gives you a fist bump. 

Gradually the afternoon hours trickle into evening and you're doing your best to ignore the eyes that are staring at you. Not the generic creepy gazes but the intense sort that makes the hair on your neck stand up and makes you pay attention. 

You try your best to fall back into that easy role of flirting and swaying to the music but it's not the same. The regulars you dismiss, the drunk groups are the norm but it's the club sodas and untouched drinks that you notice. 

There's a man sitting looking highly uncomfortable next to the same gent from hours earlier, the man had never really left, just loitered. A pair of men sat at the bar with untouched glasses of bourbon. A lady and man were sitting in a booth sipping at rum and coke's that have long since died from the melting ice. They were quiet. Unlike the rest of the crowd. Maybe you were just paranoid but your eyes went to them naturally.

"Hey." The manager sidled next to me as I drop yet another bottle of beer, thankfully it was closed. "Are you ok?"

No. "Yea, sorry." You lie and nod along as the man mutters some more and moves away. 

Fortunately they all leave. The four men at the bar were the last while the couple at the booth were the first to go.

Weirdly they all were the ones that left you a hefty tippage. 

The bouncer politely walked you to your car. You had parked underneath the lamp light and the parking area was well-lit and caged in... Yet... "Hey. How about you take me home? I'll pay you." The man looks at you and after a moment raises his brow twice in a way that makes you smack his arm playfully.

"Not everyday a girl pays for me."

"Asshole." You grab his arm and tug him back to the club, ignoring the prickling sensation of your senses telling you _danger_.

Later. Hours later when the sun is up and you're suited with your best running shoes and pistol at your side you peer into your car. It's not the sportiest or top of the line but the black four door thing had been your home for well over a year at one time. 

Circling it, you notice smudges on handles and windows. Easy explanation would be - this is New York - but paranoia had saved you before. Checking each door - they were locked \- you made it in your car and drove to a car wash where you had it detailed. 

Later, as you sit in the waiting area watching the news a lanky man wearing a blue jumper walks up to you and tosses a ziplock bag at you. "Who did you piss off this time Omega?"

Sigh, "No one." Which was true. You've kept a low profile and been a good girl. A dozen small gadgets sat in your hand, each had to been an inch or so in length and flat. "Trackers?" 

The man shrugs, "The boy's found one and nuked your car. I can tell you they're high-tech. Some good shit right there I tell ya."

Tossing the bag back at him, "keep em."

"So who you fucked over this time?" The man tucks the bag inside his jumper and crosses his arm and you roll your eyes. 

"No one." You lift your arms up as he sends you a glare, bastard always made you feel guilty for no reason. "Honest. I told you I was staying off the streets and going back to school. It's what I'm doing."

"Still doesn't explain the shit in your car."

"Look..." You shift in your seat, the both of you are alone but you still glance around, "I'm telling you Dei I've done nothing. Just... Yesterday it felt like I was being watched and... Come on why would I bother you if I wasn't worried."

"Exactly. You only come through when you're in trouble. No one hears from you less..." He runs a hand through his hair frustrated, "Forget it. Just forget it."

"You know why I don't visit Dei." Your face twists into one of sadness. "If anything was to happen to you or the kids I'll nuke this place."

He sighs, "Fucked up part is I believe you. Look... Just be careful. Has anyone been following you?"

"I had the bouncer take me home last night. Felt like someone was in my car or hiding under an invisibility cloak." Standing, you ignore the tenseness of the man and wrap his arms around you forcing a dramatic suffering with as he crushed you closer, "I love you so fucking much." You press your face into his neck, breathing deep, smelling past the grease and aftershave, it was the familiar scent of alpha that made the Omega in you practically pur. 

"Ah Sis, you're as good as you're annoying." For a moment you hold one another tightly. He was as tall as your father - the only link between you two - but you devour it. The last time you'd seen your half-brother was nearly a year pass. 

Too fucking long.

"So pretty." Your eyes well and fingers curl into the cotton of his jumper. "Absolutely perfect omega." The tears don't surprise you. Both of you ignore them as he tells you how amazing you are in those little ways no one else would know. 

A bell rings signaling the door opening and Dei shifts so he can say, "Busy!"

"Boss, there's a feral asshole out front." A short man with a handlebar mustache shouts.

"**** stay here." Dei kisses you on the brow and leaves along with the shorter man. 

Pacing the narrow room you check your side for your pistol, adjust the rings on your fingers, and nudge a chair making sure you can lift it easily if you had to fight like a WWE chick. 

You weren't expecting the body flying through the door. 

Or the roar of a very - very - angry alpha. 

That Omega part of you, the one you tried to stomp when you could wanted to jump in the fray and scratch eyes out. Instead you curled your fingers and stepped back, body crouching, waiting, ready.

From the broken doorway Dei stomped through and snarled. The man on the floor shook off the glass and made to stand but his posture froze. It looked awkward but the man's nostrils flared and his gaze swiveled from the other Alpha to you.

It was the burgundy gaze attached to a face you remembered from the night before. Only there was stubble on the mans face and hair that needed a comb... Except last night there was a cap on said head. 

Well shit. 

You bare your teeth and the man doesn't do what you expect. Most Alphas would either ignore you or approach you as if you were for sale but this one moves with a grace you didn't expect for his bulk and lays down.

Belly down.

What the shit?

What the absolute shit?!

"Fuck no. You come to my business," Dei waltzes forward and grabs the man by his collar and pants leg, "piss me off," lifts the stranger whose wide-eyed and surprised, "Present your scrawny ass to my sister!" With a grunt Dei tosses the man back outside feet first. "And you!" He points at you with clear brown eyes but his face is twisted into an angry expression that makes you drop to your knees and show the soft underside of your neck. "Leave ****." The show of submission calms your brother and you ignore the sadness that creeps into his tone. 

Honestly. He was the only Alpha you ever could rely on and had ever willingly gone to your knees for. You were fine alone except Dei was a traditionalist at heart and would love to see you bonded with an infinite amount of babies.

Twins, triplets, quadruples, all were in your family and you were good. There was no need to bring that drama into your life. Nope. No. Just no.

Dei tosses you a set of keys and he's gone. The sound of fist meeting flesh moves you. You stumble forward wanting to go out there and **help** but you're unable to ignore a direct order from your Alpha. Turning on your heels you leave out the back door and hurry to a parking lot with a handful of vehicles. 

The remote starter led you to a massive truck that would be a bitch to drive but you hop in and start it. Thankfully you'd locked doors on instincts and the sound of the handle jiggling had you looking over. A man with a toothy smile and wave was **right there**. "We need to talk." He calls out but honestly, What sane woman would sit idle, roll down her window, and chat?

A stupid one.

 _Stranger Danger_ screamed at you and you shifted the truck in gear and backed up. Weirdly the man was like a spider, glued to your door, and you hated spiders, loathed them, so you refused to look as you jerked to a stop and shifted gears again to drive into traffic.

"Pull over!" The man would yell as he tried to fiddle with the door handle. "Hey! You can't ignore me, I'm beautiful!"

Your foot hits the break, tires squeal, and the man jerks but his hands stay stuck as his feet drops. You can hear him swearing as you grip your steering wheel tighter. "Either you jump off or I'll kill you."

Finding his footing again the man reaches into a breast pocket and pulls out a disk like thing. You can see him in your peripheral vision as he waves it, "Pull over Omega." **That** catches your attention and you stare at the man. "Fuck off or die!" 

Options. 

The man cocks a brow, "Oh you're gonna be fun." That small device is placed somewhere on the door where the handle sits and you listen as there's a pop and you **knew** the asshole broke the lock. Somehow. Fuck! The light turns green and you shove the door open as you jerk the wheel and drive forward. 

It's New York, the bus next to you isn't a surprise but sideswiping it was. 

The man is gone, your truck is back in traffic, and you veer down a one way. Well shit. You killed someone. Fuck.

.

Stopping at a bodega you expected a lecture and a spicy hot patty for the road. A double barrel shotgun aimed at you was a surprise. It being quickly jerked upward to the left has you turning to see the gun aimed at a man that was crouching on the top of your truck. 

Son of a bitch was alive. 

"Mátalo." Kill him. It tumbles out without a thought.

"Wait no!" The man throws out his hands but your sister-in-law shoots. She hits the window of the truck and you snatch the damn thing from her. Digging in her apron that stretches across her pregnant belly you grab the spare ammo and put yourself in front of her as you reload. "Shit, wait, I'm your mate."

You pause.

Your SIL gasps.

Behind her others gasp.

It's a fucking bad soap opera. **CLICK**. Loaded and locked you point the shotgun at the man who doesn't move a muscle. 

"Pendeja!" The gun is jerked down and you stare, baffled, as your SIL shouts at **you**. "No es así como tratas a tu pareja. Are you crazy?"

"He's not my fucking mate!" You want to yell but you grit it back, barely. "I've never seen him before!"

"Uhh..." The man lifts a hand but dropped it when twin glares aimed at him.

"You know how men are." She says and you need to remind yourself that Linda was pregnant. You don't hit pregnant people. "Son estúpidos."

Of course you knew men were stupid, "He's not my mate. I don't have mate's. I don't need them." It's an age-old argument and she rolls her eyes before snatching the shotgun back. 

"Talk with him. If he's not yours then I kill him ok?"

"Loca you fucking missed, the baby's got a better chance at hitting the bastard." 

She smacks you on the arm with the long barrel, "Respecta." Before turning to glare at the stranger who was now sitting on the edge, legs crossed. "Hurt her and you'll be able to cross your legs like a lady."

You watch as she ushers the small curious crowd back inside the bodega and closes the door with the closed sign flipped over. "Sister?" The man asks.

"In law." You answer, "I thought I squished you."

He shrugs, "Magic."

"Where's your scar?" 

You don't expect him to get it but he laughs, "Too many to count baby."

"I'm not your baby."

He drops to the sidewalk and your hand reaches for your pistol. He raises his own hands in surrender, "My name's Clint Barton."

"Uhu." You eye the hand he held out. An odd glove covered part of his hand. It encircled his wrists, a long strip lined up each digit from the backside of his hand and covering the tip of his fingers. His palms were bare and a lot of skin was exposed. It was more than enough skin that if you touch it you'd know he was telling the truth.

A part of you really felt he was telling the truth.

God did that **hurt**.

Clint's fingers wiggled, "Fist bump?" His fingers curl into a fist and anxiety hits you. 

Yep. 

Hurts like a mother-fucker. 

Taking a step back you cross your arms and tuck your hands away. "I'm good. Sorry but I'm not looking for a mate. Ever." You tack on. Sirens in the distance moves you. Circling the man you make it back into your truck with a hop and quick start of the engine. The man is gone when you look out the passenger window but you know he's there, somewhere, maybe hiding?

Pulling back onto the road you make a quick detour down side streets and into another car wash. "Mami you got a white monkey in your bed!" A far too amused Beta stands off to the side as you park the truck inside the part of the building that washes the cars. 

"Shoot him." You say as you hop out and toss the keys over. 

The man shrugs.

"No shooting!" Clint shouts as the Beta below points a side arm at him. "I'm her mate!"

You huff as the Beta lowers his arm and gives you a look, "I can clip him in the knee if you need a head start?"

Before you can respond there was the sound of metal meeting asphalt and clanging. The sight of Iron Man of all people waltzing **in** to the car wash was... well... unbelievable. "**** what the fuck you do." The beta hissed and you smacked him in the arm.

"I didn't do shit!" Except whatever happened the past hour but how Iron would get involved in a _almost_ murder was weird but why did everyone blame you for shit? "He fucking tried to kidnap me," you gesture at Clint who waved cheerily before jogging to Iron Man. "Papi he broken Dei's door."

The Beta peers at said door and without a word grabs you to push you behind him and points the Gun at the duo. "Correr!" 

"Hey!" and "Wait!" Were the last thing you heard before you bolted. Out the opposite end you emerge to bright sunlight and a man with a metal arm and another man with mechanical wings. 

What the actual fuck.

"Policía!" You shout. The least you could do is give anyone on site time to run or destroy. 

The one with the metal arm cocks his head as if listening to something. Your hand grips your gun and with a swear you let it go to run. All you needed was to make it pass the gate where another car sat running, windows rolled down, and two men are waiting impatiently. You don't flinch as the passenger leans out with a gun and shoots. You hear swearing and the cling of bullet hitting metal but you ignore the growl of a very angry Alpha as you make it past the gate - a gate that is quickly rolled closed by a separate pair of woman, each carrying their own weapons - and you dive through the window of the back passenger side.

The tires screech as the gas is hit and you're on the road, heart pounding, a manic laugh escapes you as you realise your life had gone from basic bitch to comic book bad ass bitch. You **flew** through a fucking car window and dodged bullets.

You.

Were.

A.

Bad.

Bitch.

That feeling only lasted a few moments. Not enough time for you sit up and put a seat belt on as Iron Man appeared front and center, hands twisting metal as feet slid back from impact. Your body, still laid out, propelled in a direction that knocked you out for a moment and dropped to awkwardly lay out on the floor.

The door is ripped off its hinges and hands are reaching for you. It's an awkward lift but you're back on the seats and hands are trying to pull on your clothes to drag you from the car. 

It hurt. 

Your head, your arm, pain bloomed behind your eyes making you feel nauseous, but that was moot when fingers dug into your hips and smelled **alpha** coupled with the sound of heavy breathing.

It was a position no Omega ever wanted to find themselves and you screeched. A sound that came from somewhere deep and it had been a long time since you last made such a noise but it was enough to make the man flinch and give you the opportunity to kick out and hit him hard enough to let you go.

Scrambling backwards you manage to fumble for your gun and you don't care that the Alpha had his hands up or was trying to calm you - you didn't need to be calm - and pulled the trigger. Three times. One hit a metal arm causing it to ping and you ignore the bloom of pain from your leg as the man is jerked out of range as you pulled the trigger twice more, following, breaking the small window off to the side. 

Gun shots ring out as the two men in the front get themselves together and shoot out the windshield at Iron Man who nonchalantly stands still. Pulling at the handle of the door it swings open with a creak and you're twisting to get out of the car, gun still in your hand, you run. 

Adrenaline keeps you from throwing up on your shoes as your panic spikes when a man with metal wings drops from the sky and you swear as you jerk in another direction to find a woman in your way and a very tall blond-haired man who you recognise from earlier. 

What the fuck.

Chest heaving you reach for your hand at your ankle where you carry a switch blade that pops open and you grip, ready. "Who's first?"

"We're only here to talk to you." Says the winged man. 

"Omega please." 

Your knife points to the blond as your gun points to the red-head. "Why are you here? Where's my brother?" 

The blond man's brows furrow before his face blooms into a smile. "Brother?"

"Why are you following me?" There's a gap between the three and you edge backwards.

"I'm your Alpha."

Your arm moves and the gun plus knife point at the far too tall, obscenely handsome, blond-haired, blue-eyed, crazy as fuck Alpha. "Hell to the fuck no." 

The thing was. This part of New York, such a small part, 3 blocks back to front, apartment buildings and bodegas, belonged to the Familia and the Familia were crafty and considering just who you were - there were perks in being the Sister to Dei - there was safety in numbers. 

Tossed high and falling with a clank a canister hit the cement. One after another they dropped as the squeal of tires revved into the street from both directions. You wait until the canisters hiss and let off plumes of colorful smoke before running. 

You don't stick around long enough to watch the aftermath, it doesn't compute that the people who were following you were superheroes and well-known. Everyone knew Iron Man but the rest? Making it inside a building you speed past an elderly woman who quickly closes the door and locks it with deadbolts and a steel stick that settles across it. 

She looks you over, "What happened?" She gestures to your leg, the leggings drenched in blood as a wound gaped on your thigh. A bullet had hit you, skimming the fatty part, a clean shot. 

"Gun." What did happen? One minute you're hugging your brother and the next you're in an action scene of a B rated movie. "Got a band-aid?"

She scoffs, "Band-aid. Crazy, the lot of you." You follow her as she climbs a set of stairs mumbling in spanish at the stupidity of you and everyone. "Come. We'll get you cleaned and let them idiots take care of your mess."

"I didn't do anything." She pauses to give you a look. One that makes you shift uncomfortably, "I wouldn't bring trouble if I thought I did something."

The woman rolls her eyes and lead you into an apartment that looked like someone her age lived in. Older furniture, photos on the wall, plastic on the couches, rooster hand towels that matched the kitchen curtains, and the house smelled of dinner.

"Mijos, behave." She says as 6 men stand from where they sat in the living room. The coffee table was stacked with bricks of money and an open suitcase filled with more cash. "Ignore them, they know better." You give them a nod and they return to their seats and counting.

They looked familiar.

"Can I call my brother?" You ask.

"You can," she sits you down at kitchen table, "he won't answer." With a plate in hand she fills it with food that's sitting out and plops it in front of you. "Eat then you tell me why the Avengers are outside after you?"

You blink. "Avengers?"

Kola Champagne is plopped next to you with silverware. "Comer." She gives you a look and you do as she says. You eat. Blood drips, that ache behind your eyes persist, but the food as it hits your stomach soothes most of it away. You can ignore the soreness as you shovel forkful after forkful of rice and stab at the pork that tasted better than anything you could cook. 

The lady makes quick work of your pants. The kitchen knife rips into the fabric and you keep your leg as still as you can as she gets to patching you up. "Know why they're following you?"

Mate. The word bounces in your head because it's the most ridiculous shit in the world. "A guy thinks I'm his mate." You say.

She snorts, "All this over a knot?"

"Dei threw one through a door and he looked feral. Told me to run so i did and this other white guy glues himself to the truck and I thought i got him." 

The soda hisses as you open it.

"Dude pops up at the store and says he's my mate. Tell him to shove it and i leave. Iron Man shows up and..."

"For an Omega your age you're soft in the head." 

You want to throw your hands up and scream in frustration but instead you shove food in your mouth and remind yourself this woman was **helping** you. The woman was tending to your wounds, fed you, was keeping you safe, if your brother found out you were **rude** you'd be tossed over his knee so fast. 

"Don't think I don't know who you are ****. Who your mama was." You grip the fork tightly in your hand, eyes on your plate. **Rude** , don't be rude you remind yourself. "Omegas shouldn't run from their mate. You know this." 

"He's not..." Her fingers press along the edge of your bandaged wound forcing you to press your lips together and inhale deeply.

"Stupid girl. Only a fool would walk away from their mate. Many of us aren't blessed with a mark and here you are causing trouble." You set the fork down, the food in your stomach turning sour. "Did you bother to touch him? One touch would have saved us all trouble but no. Not you. Of course you would take after your mother. If your father was alive he'd be..." 

The chair is pushed back as you stand. Drawing in a breadth as your wound stretches you use the ache to ground you. Anger wasn't a pretty look, not on an Omega, your nails throbbed as they protracted and sharpened. "Thank you for the food." Turning you didn't expect the 6 men to crowd the door keeping you hostage.

Today was just not your day.

"Move." They're silent pillars of muscle.

"Sit yourself down and stop acting like a spoiled brat." The woman huffs as she cleans the mess of cloth and blood.

Flexing your fingers you have to remember that you can't pull your gun out on another member of the Familia less your life was in jeapordy. "Move or I'll scream." But you can do other things. Technically you were being held against your will and technically... 

Fuck that. 

Fuck them. 

Fuck the rules.

Fuck being _polite_.

One of the men, tries to entice you into the living room for T.V. time. Walking forward you instead veer towards the door and one of the guys grabs your arm and you risk it all by screaming. 

A Omegas Scream, a legit primal scream, was high-pitched and potent. Two of the 6 men drop to their knees - Alphas - while the rest cover their ears leaving them disoriented. 

You make a mad dash to the front door and you can hear the loud thumps from below the flight of stairs. Someone was trying to break down the door and you run down the hall and pray this apartment building was like the others as you try for another way out.

The problem with an Omega Scream was the drawback. As potent as it was to protect you it could also leave you light-headed, mute, and at serious risk of a drop. A drop was the last thing you needed as your throat itched something fierce as you took a path you assumed would lead you to the basement which would lead you outside through a maintenance door. 

Only you were wrong.

So wrong


	2. Run Omega, Run.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Very quick Death scene, blink and it's gone into a life scene.  
> Spanking in case anyone doesn't like over the knee discipline.
> 
> ❤❤❤  
> Thanks for the reviews last chapter  
> ❤❤❤

**WTF**

**2**

> **“You can close your eyes to things you don’t want to see, but you can’t close your heart to things you don’t want to feel.” – **Johnny Depp****

* * *

The door didn't lead to the basement but a laundry room. A stupid brightly lit space with a row for washer machines and another for dryers. A laugh escapes you as puffs of air, sound hard to pass the mess you were kind of regretting. Turning around wasn't an option, no doors would open and someone was after you. 

Life was shit. 

Leaning against the door frame you close your eyes as a wave of dizziness hits you. This was it. No more running. You had your gun and knife and your rings but other than that you couldn't throw a well enough punch. Not in this state.

"Omega?" Someone calls out to you and you can hear footsteps running. Slipping inside you shut the door and back away, eyes trained on the small window that's suddenly filled with a strangers face. 

This was it.

You were caught.

This was it.

Years of praying to never have this moment crumbles. Your back hits the edge of a machine and you can feel your heart pounding and the rush of anxiety has you gasping for air.

Breathe.

Breathe.

The door opens and the tall dirty blond man walks in. His gaze follows you as you side step until you reach the end of machines and stumble back against a wall and slide down to sit. "You're hurt."

It was getting harder to focus. You needed to breathe and pay attention. Your hand presses against your bandaged wound and the pain makes you wheeze but that fuzzy feeling fades. You couldn't fall into a drop, you refused.

"****." Fucker knew your name, "Oh Honey, you're falling?"

Drop not Falling. Falling was for mated pairs so you glare at him the best you could. 

"Come here." He crouches in front of you, arms held out and palms up. "I'll catch you."

Something in you lurches forward, the want and need making you bend at the waist but you catch yourself.

No.

No!

You were not going to **Fall** so he could **Catch** you. He wasn't your mate and you sure as fuck wasn't going to initiate contact. 

" **Omega**." Your eyes drift to his, you knew that tone. " **Come**."

The heel of your hand presses deep while the other grasps for your gun but he lunges. Surprised by his sudden move you rear back but in your fuzzy state you hit the wall. Hard. The pain triggers the world to go dark and you slump forward. Unconscious.

The Alpha freaks out and is quick to scoop you up and leave. Walking as fast as he could willing himself to not panic.

.

Soft.

Clean.

Neutral.

Your fingers twitch, the silky feel made you question if it was cotton you were resting atop but it felt... Good. 

You inhaled deeply smelling hints of lemon and lavender. Hopefully you didn't fall asleep with your candle burning. 

Shifting, you flip yourself over and burrowing into your pillow. In the distance you could hear the tinkle of water, you must have slept through your favorite sleep asmr - Snow blizzard - and into a water fountain.

The bed dips.

"Hey Sweet pea, time to wake up." Fingers carded through your hair, gentle as the tangles of sleep gave you an impressive nest of bed hair. Warmth ghosted over your cheeks and you inhaled the scent of roasted chest nuts and buttery popcorn. Your nostrils twitched at the odd combination, so different from the more earthy scents your roommate smelled of.

"We have coffee." Another male voice called out, soft, sweet, and gentle. 

You whine and roll on your back gripping the pillow so it smushes your face and blocks out the evil sun. "Noooo." The blanket atop you was heavy and warm. Too warm. Like a flobberworm you wiggled and kicked it off you, shoving it away with your foot before huffing and splaying your arms and legs out like a starfish.

Someone snorts while another one chuckles. Ugh. "Jeremy leave me be and take your rent-a-knot with you." While your roommate was a Beta, he was the random few who sported a single mating gland. To many he'd have been a freak of nature with the scent of Omega at times when distressed but the man took full advantage with a revolving door of Alphas and the occasional intrigued Omega. 

You weren't jealous.

Lies.

The pillow snatched and you scrunch your face and whine. A hand settles on your cheek keeping you from burying it in the bedding and you lift your hips just to flop down, upset. A thumb brushes under your eyes and the Alpha above you croons. For a moment you feel your limbs turn to mush, the sound making you want to bare your neck and reach out to inhale that nutty buttery scent, for a moment the bratty and sleepy side of you smooths away to a natural state of being that's unfamiliar but not unwanted.

"She's perfect." Someone says in the distance.

"Such a good Omega." The crooning stops and it's like a lead anvil hits you. 

Peppermint. It's the only scent you had on hand at home.

Cheap 200 thread count is the only bedding you own.

The weighted blanket is your roommates comfort, not yours, his sheets were silk.

"Ah." The Alpha above you was amused as panic had your eyes widen and that sense of peace you'd felt moments ago was replaced by fear. "Sour lemons." He says and if he can smell **that** , it also means your deodorizer had been wiped off your body. 

You shove at him as best you could and scramble to the side but your body doesn't move like it should. The sudden movement makes you light-headed and disoriented enough where you don't see the edge and tumble off the bed and into someone's arm. Whoever it was grunted as you lashed out, trying to hit while you twist out of their hold. Somehow you're upside down and tossed back on the bed. Kicking out your legs you let out a scream, an Omega scream, but it's cut short as someone grabs you by the ankle and drags you along the length of the bed. 

A hand clamps over your mouth, an Alpha with a familiar head of dark hair and beard is above you, pinning you down. 

This was It.

Of course, this was how it happened, your mother warned you, promised you this was how it would be once you met your mates. 

"Calm." Brown eyes bore into yours and that Alpha tone forced your body to melt into the mattress as your mind freaked the fuck out. "You're safe ****." No, no you weren't. "You're in my home, we brought you here because you were injured and had a pre-drop." You're breadth stutters as panic pushes past that _safe_ cloud forced on you and your body jerked, a knee lifting and hitting the Alpha where it would do the most damage. 

The man keeled over with a whine of pain. Someone swears but you're off the bed and take a tumble into the plush carpet. Your nails protract and you use them to slash at the man who had hitched a ride on your truck. It wasn't a fair fight. Two Alpha men versus you? Still, you drew blood and that primal part that bared its teeth did so with satisfaction. 

"You okay Tony?" Clint rubbed his nose making sure it wasn't broken.

"Peachy." The man grunts still curled in a fetal position. 

"Omega Calm!" Steve was laid out on his back, his arms wrapped around you in a bear hug as his legs lock over yours. You want to scream but his hold is tight, painful even, it was hard to breathe but you managed as tears fell from your eyes out of anger, and you let out a human scream from behind clenched teeth. 

It's Clint that hovers over, having grabbed a syringe that had sat on the bedside table, "Either you calm yourself or I sedate you." The man shouts as he waves the stupid thing in your face. You bare your teeth at him, a deep growl escaping you before those arms get impossibly tighter and it's cut off along with your air. 

Something cracks and you go still as the Alpha holding you lets you go while the one above you swears but once again you find the world going dark and your body goes limp.

.

Pre-drops were a bitch. 

One right after another was worse. 

The floaty just waking up vibe of the first was replaced by chills and the worst hangover one could experience without alcohol. Nausea, headache, even your joints hurt which forced you to lay on the bed as still as you could, staring up at the ceiling as you ignore the man sitting in a chair drinking from a thermos and reading something off his phone. It was an iron man thermos to go with the Alpha that ran the suit. 

"****... Funky name but we all can't be basic queens."

If you could move you'd hit him. Bed and all. Hard.

"High school dropout, I'm sure we can work on getting you a GED at most."

At most?

"Queens, apartment in a shitty area, did you know there was 6 murders on that block this past month alone?"

Of course you fucking knew. 

"Roommate works at... Nowhere. He gets disability checks." You can hear _something_ in his tone and your fingers flex into the blankets. "Interesting. Drives a luxury car, paid cash, and his bank has enough numbers he could purchase something in Manhattan." 

It hurt to move, the thought of sitting up and throwing your pillow made you want to vomit. What if you threw up on him? That would be a perk.

"Uber Eats and Grub hub, hmm, dog walker, and that club. Hope you know you won't ever be stepping foot in that place. Should have put you over my knee when you got on stage."

"Fuck. You."

Tony's brows lift and he peers over at you, surprised. "That must have hurt."

"Kill. You."

If you could look at him you would see a smile bloom on his face. It was toothy and would have made you want to punch him but instead you were glaring up at the ceiling as you tried to ignore the pain that came from the act of speaking.

It was worth it tho. So worth it. 

"Oh baby. I can't **wait** until the doctors give you an all clear." The phone shuts off with a click sound and there's a rustle as the Alpha stands and leans over but you keep your sight on the ceiling, ignoring the man's aftershave and proximity. "We've been looking for you for a long time but you're a crafty little thing aren't you."

He couldn't know...

"Scent blockers are for short-term use not the shit you slathered yourself in. You'll be lucky not to catch some form of skin cancer." 

He slouches against the bars of the bed and the closer he is the more you have to ignore the strong smell of coffee. 

"Omega's are required by law to submit their marks into the database but surprise-surprise you're nowhere to be found." 

Coffee. Caffeine would help set her mind straight. God he smelled so good. A hand reaches out, fingers ghosting over the damp tear-stained skin, "We'll also be removing those tattoos of yours." 

Your intention was to move for a punch, smack, anything, the Alpha doesn't flinch or move as your body jerks. The chains rattle and you don't care how much pain you're under, it's superficial compared to the thought that **anyone** would remove the one thing you owned. 

How dare he.

How dare anyone!

Tony was more than willing to watch the Omega tire herself out as the chains on each limb did it's job but the sudden stillness of yet **another** pre-drop was different from the last two.

Your heart stopped.

Medical stormed into the room and Tony was shoved aside as aid was given. One... Two... Paddles had been used to jump start the heart and Tony watched, heart in his throat as your sightless eyes stared in his direction.

✨

Dei is a storm cloud. An inch just under six feet he was wire thin but packed a punch and Steve could feel the phantom ache on his jaw. "Where the fuck is she?"

_Language_. 

Steve stomped on the urge to scold the other Alpha. "She's in an induced coma until she heals completely." They were standing in the Avengers private garage, cars lined perfectly while Dei's SUV sat running, car door left open, the radio a low distraction. 

"How many?"

Steve hesitated, "Three."

A growl had Steve adjusting his stance as Dao stepped forward, "I told you that hunting her would end badly and look what happens." 

"The first was an accident."

"And the second? Third?" Steve makes to speak but Dei cuts him off, hand slashing the air. "No excuses." Dei stands eye to eye. He doesn't care the Alpha before him is Captain America and _enhanced_. "I'm her Alpha. She is mine. Not yours or any other demented mother-fucker. She comes home today or so help me god I will *burn this tower and everyone in it."

"You can't take her."

"I can do whatever the fuck I please. She's my Omega, she submits to my will. Send her to my home or I'll call the police and the press. I bet they'd have a field day." Turning on his heel Dei marched to his vehicle, door slamming, and peeled out of there.

.

It's the smell of bleach that screams **home**. It burns your nose and makes you want to ugly cry in relief. Waking up in a twin size bed with sheets printed with dinosaurs is enough to push the tears out. 

You wish you could pretend the flood of memories was just a nightmare. It wasn't. Running and being caught was no night terror. You'd been captured and your body had knocked itself out because your dumb ass couldn't handle it. 

Rubbing your eye's, it took a minute for you to get yourself under control. Breadth hitching you kick off the dinosaur blanket and sit up, back hunching so you don't hit your head on the top bunk. 

Toys were scattered on the carpet, the plain white walls taped with children's drawings as high as the kids could reach. Another bed sat across from her shrinking the space but as you inhale the scent of family you drop your head into your hands and let it out.

The door to the bedroom opens and you don't hear it but the bed dips and you jerk to see the worried look on your brothers face. A moment passes, "Let go Omega." He says as if it were easy. Tears well and spill because it's not. "Kneel."

There's a moment of hesitation and it was enough for Dei to grab you and gently settle you over his laps. It had been a long time since you were last in this position but you didn't protest. 

Smack.

Smack.

Smack.

The blows landed steady and heavy. 

Smack.

Harder and harder he hit. Your lounge pants doing its best to cushion the sting. Dei finally growls and you whine and wiggle when his hands drag down your pants bottom showing off your bare ass.

Smack.

Smack.

Smack.

Your hand moves to cover your ass but Dei grabs it and adjusts his legs so one is over your own before he starts hitting you again.

Smack.

Smack.

"Let go Omega."

The fight leaves you and you go limp as your body is forced into a proper drop. Your first in over a year.

. 

Music, lights, noise, you have a drink in each hand, shaking hard and fast before setting them on the bar and unscrewing the lid before you poured the drinks into a row of shot glasses. A server snatches them and leaves. You move quickly, drink after drink leaving your small section as you take care of the servers on the floor.

Tonight was absolutely insane with a porn star guest and ignore the new faces as much as the regulars. You were here to make drinks not mingle, at least this shift. 

To think you had almost lost this job because some asshole Alpha had called in saying you quit. Thankfully the owner had been nice enough to give you your job back after you showed that your neck was free from any bite marks.

"Omega." You ignore the Alpha that's posturing, you had hoped to be rid of him. All of them. "****."

"Sir you need to move!" Lexi, the head bartender and the one person not afraid to speak up, all but shoved the Alpha aside as she plopped her tray down. "Move or you'll be removed!"

You watch, eyes glancing to the pair as you work, the man standing tall and tinted glasses doing nothing to hide a glare. "Do you know who you're talking to?"

"Fuck you, you're out."

"Excuse me?"

"Billy!" Lexi shouts into the crowd and finally you take a moment to look at the Alpha that is blinking stupidly. Frowning. 

The crowd naturally parts and a short petite baby-faced just barely legal Omega approaches the two. He's wearing white head to toe, his brown doe eyes and fidgety fingers could melt just about any heart.

He screamed Omega. 

The type of Omega that could calm a crowd and entice them to belly flop off a cliff. The type of Omega that were rented to sit in board meetings and politics to keep the adults in check. "Yes Mama." He was also the secret weapon that kept even the gangsters and drunk men in check at the club during the busy nights.

Lexi gestured to Tony and you could hear the man mumble, "But he's a baby."

"Can you please escort him out the front door love." 

Billy straightened his spine doing his best to seem taller and his expression looked as fierce as a puppy's scrunched in disapproval. The Alpha tried to speak but Billy marched closer and poked the man in the stomach, "Meanie." Tony crumbled, shoulders hunching and you watch enthralled as the teen grabbed the man by the tie and lead him away, the crowd parting naturally. 

You were sure the boy was lecturing him on how to behave, using the same script he normally did for most of the tossed out men. "Thanks." You tell the woman who shrugs and orders you to continue your job. 

.

"Sit... Good girl!" The grass is damp but you rub the squishy face of the pitbull with gray whiskers and a tongue that hung loosely to the side. The turkey jerky was quickly gobbled and you continued with your usual commands, "Paw... Paw... Good girl." 

Ball time was limited to high tosses in the air and short distances. Lasting about six throws before the Pitbull deemed it enough and laid on the grass as if she ran a mile. From your duffle bag you pull out a very large bottle of water and a steel bowl, setting it on the grass when the dog was ready to drink. Which wouldn't take long. 

Ball still in her mouth the elderly dog moved with a shakiness that had you biting your lip and holding out the bowl so it was easier to drink from.

Of course the ball was plopped in the clean water and you waited patiently as she lapped, breathed, lapped some more, and flopped down to rub herself into the grass.

It was a scene that Steve found enchanting as you sat beside the dog, one hand absent-mindedly rubbing the dogs coat while your other hand was occupied with a cell phone. 

Stumbling on you **was** a surprise... The jog around the pond had kept the anxious energy at a tolerable level but also kept you in his sights. Maybe you would have noticed him, maybe if you had been alone and less distracted with the puppy at your side, you'd have noticed the Alpha but the man's scent didn't curl around you until he was standing just a foot away. 

Your gaze lifted from your phone and you stared up into the nervous looking Captain America. Learning that tidbit had been a bitch but Dei was weirdly happy over that fact. _Avengers can protect you_. The Alpha had said but you didn't need **them** to protect you. It wasn't you that needed protection. 

Slipping your phone into your sports bra, it jutting out from between your boobs you stand. The leash looped over your shoulders and the dog at your feet huffed as she rolled onto her belly, panting. 

"**** wait." He tries.

"Look, do us both a favor and leave me alone. I'm not your Omega, I'm no one's Omega." Clipping the leash on the dog's collar you're not surprised when she doesn't budge.

"Then prove it." Steve holds out his hand and you glance down at it before looking away, "Please."

"Leave me alone." Crouching you try your best to lift the dog to stand up but she was dead weight and flopped on her side, huffing, tail thumping.

"No."

You glare up at the man who was far too tall and broad-shouldered. "You have no fucking choice. I'm not your mate, I want nothing to do with you, the others, and I sure as fuck don't want to see any of you ever again."

Steve inhaled deeply, his hands itched to spank you. He could picture himself getting on one knee and tossing you over his other knee and swatting you until you learned not to act so... so... Not like an Omega.

Sweet.

Kind.

Submissive.

"That's 10."

You stand, the leash clutched in your fist. "10 what?" Steve stares not answering. "10 what?" You repeat again but of course the man stares you down and you smirk, "Ah. Is the poor Alpha upset?" 

Your tone makes him clench his jaw, "I'd watch your tone Omega."

"Or what?" 

Steve's hands itched. Stepping closer he towered over you but you didn't shift your gaze or hunch your shoulders. He wasn't your Alpha, there was **no** reason for you to show any deference. "Your eyes are clowdy." 

It takes you by surprise. You half expected him to puff up and posture with dimwitted statements but the concern that makes him deflate and look almost as if he cared. "It's a clowdy day." You respond." Chin jutting out and adjusting your stance. 

"I'm sorry."

Excuse you? What?

"I'm sorry I went feral and attacked your brother. He smelled like you and... and I reacted improperly." Well, fuck. "We couldn't lose you again so Clint did what he did but we didn't expect you to not take his hand or for it to get that out of hand." He grimaced, "Your reaction..."

Nope. No. "How would you feel waking up with a stranger over you?" His lips pressed together firmly, "No woman, hell no Omega, would lay there like some Disney Princess and not want to stab your eyes out."

"We're your mates, we'd never hurt you. Not like what you're implying."

"You're not. I don't carry your marks."

His hand reached out, gripping your wrist and he brought your forearm up, "Steven Grant Rogers. Anthony Edward Stark." Each name spoken itched, "Clint Barton. Robert Bruce Banner." He tugs up his sweaty shirt and curved along his navel is your name. Attached to it in pretty alphabets were the initials of the full names on your forearm. 

You knew that each man would have your name etched somewhere on their body with the same jumbled mess of initials. It was beautiful, the script two different tones. The initials were dark in color meaning they had all accepted their own version of a bond but her name - her legal name - was much lighter but you could make it out. 

It was your name.

A name you had left behind.

"That's not my name." His eyes widen before his face smoothed over and you tug at your arm but he doesn't let go, "I'm surrounded by people, any one of them could have left their scent on me." It was a shitty lie. Hell you didn't believe it yourself. 

He scoffs and you ignore the sheen in his eyes, "Are we so bad you would lie? I **hate** liers."

No. They weren't bad. An internet search told you they were famous and the news coverage was bias but they weren't bad. You knew bad, associated with it on the daily. "This," Your arm pushes up and he allows you to shove it close to his eyes, "Can't happen. I'm not your Omega, I'm no one's. Trust me it's better for you to forget this ever happened and find that person that would make you complete."

"****, you're that person."

Sigh, "Let go."

"No."

You glance down at the dog who went from laying on the grass to standing beside you. Her eyes trained on Steve and you didn't want to... "Mishka." Her ears perked up and tail wagged, "Get him!" The pitbull, wearing a flower attached to her collar, charges. 

She wasn't raised to fight, instead living a life of luxury except she did have one attack mode the dog was good at. Prancing forward under the watchful gaze of the tall Alpha, the dog sniffed his ankle "Uh..." And lifted her leg, peeing on the man. "Goddamn!" Steve let go and jumped back, leg and shoe drenched in piss.

"Such a good girl." You rub the puppy's face and quickly toss out the left over water and pack up your doggy bag. Clipping the dogs leash you hurry away, ignoring the calls of your name.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next chapter:  
> We have a stalker 👀, Drugs, liquor, very minor but it's a rave. Shit happens. It moves along into the touching part of "oops you're my mate fuck!" And some PDA.


	3. Stalker & Underground.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A glimpse of your stalker, old wounds, new characters, and a trip to the Underground where you dabble in tequila and party drugs. Oh wait... Who's that?

**Part 3**

> _“Don't start your day with the broken pieces of yesterday. Every day is a fresh start. Each day is a new beginning. Every morning we wake up is the first day of our new life.” - unknown_

* * *

* * *

_I see you Smile._

_I see your Grace._

_ I seek your ever loving embrace. _

_There's the soul._

_There's a mate._

_Except you and I._

_Are meant to never say goodbye._

_You may run._

_You may cry._

_I will forgive._

_You are my hopes and dreams._

_Soon we shall be together._

_One day soon you will carry my mark..._

There are more words but you can't stomach to read the rest. The note had been taped on the door, half hidden under a wreath that was two years old and dusty. It sits in your pocket and the unlocked door makes you hesitate as it swings open.

Blues plays in the background, a trail of petals lead into the kitchen and out towards the hall which leads to yours and your roommate's bedroom. It was stupid to walk inside but you grip your phone as you record your steps in one hand while the other holds your gun. 

You do your best to control your breathing and not panic. Fear making it hard to breathe and you hate it. Hate how scared you are but this is _normal_ by this point. As fucked up as that sounds. 

Candles decorated the counters, some had melted away while others remained lit and unwavering. The table was set for two in a familiar side by side setting, paper cups and plates with plastic wear unwrapped. A box of Hawaiian pizza sat missing two slices. Chinese food was dished onto each plate. Lo mein, shrimp egg rolls, fried plantains, and a large order of sweet and sour shrimp. A bottle of sparkling apple cider sat in a bucket of water, the ice melted, staining the table runner with condensation. A familiar song filters into the kitchen and you try to stomp the memories that come with it. 

_This is a man's world, this is a man's world but it wouldn't be nothing, nothing without a woman or a girl..._

Your feet follow the trail of real petals. The first time they had been fake and you remember him grumbling but you had giggled and rolled your eyes. 

Foolish girl.

Naive little girl.

Stupid.

You should have... No. You weren't going to run that route of what if's. Not again.

With each step the music gets louder and you settle your hand on the door. It's not closed, the gap telling you he had picked your lock. Of course he did. One time he had removed your door entirely. Petals scattered through your room, candles swam in bowls spotted here and there, your full length mirror you kept in your closet was angled by the bed facing the mattress. 

Flowers were scattered on your bed, stemless roses, lily's, carnations, and your pillows had been stacked atop your desk chairs. They were the wrong pillows, had they been... No... No sense dredging up the pasts little details.

You have to look through your phone to deal with your bed. The sheets had been changed, of course, a lace shawl was hung on the wall, you refused to sleep in a bed with a head or foot board, but the asshole still manage to install the white cuffs underneath the mattress. High quality leather, soft, buttery, and your breadth hitched as you remembered fighting against them and... No... No!

Strong. You needed to be strong.

Nestled atop an array of flowers was a one piece teddy with an intricate lace that would hug your body and show off, well, everything. A memory of the first and last time you wore something similar flashed and you turned around, phone still in hand, and walked out the room, out the apartment, down the hall, and rang a door buzzard. 

Again.

Again.

Again.

You pressed on it, the annoying buzz accompanied by a string of cuss words.

The door yanked open and a cross looking man growled, leaning against the frame with one arm and the smell of whiskey wafted towards you. "Fuck you want now bitch?" His eyes narrowed at her phone directed at him and knocked her hand aside, "Otra vez?" 

You nod because of course this happened again. Like it's happened god knows how many times before.

Too many fucking times.

He mutters and shouts into his apartment where three woman poke their heads out. They're dressed in business attire, just getting home themselves. By now you know better than to protest as the three omega woman descend on you. They croon and touch you, one presses her face into the crook of your neck, the other rubs your shoulders, and the shortest of the three hugs you in the middle. 

It lasts but a moment, the Alpha watching on with frustration and he clears his throat. The three Omega's pull away but they surround you and make noises that make you feel less likely to toss yourself into traffic. It's... Nice.

"Did you touch anything?" He says.

"No."

"Stay here and make dinner, we got this. Least you can do is make something decent." The man grumbles and you roll your eyes. Fucking asshole. Of course you don't say that, you hand over your phone to one of the Omega's and watch as they make their way to your shared apartment. 

The door closes and you lock it with the three dead-bolts and stand alone in an apartment you rarely visit, only doing so when moments like this happen. 

It had been weeks since the last _visit_ and the apartment looked the same. The sturdy furniture, the beads that hung at every doorway without a door. Pillows dotted the floor, beautifully embroidered pillows, and you side step around them. There's meat on the cutting board and rice in the cooker. Looking around at the ingredients you set to work on a stew, bake some fish alongside vegetables, and set eggs to boil. 

Time passes.

The food is near done and the table is set with a large plate at the head table and you forego the candles that are usually set for dinner. Glasses for the red wine sit out as the bottle sits beside the large plate ready to be opened and served. 

A knock interrupts the steady tick of the clock. A set pace that tells you to unlock the door and you have enough time to notice the addition of three more men huddled in the hall. 

"Hey."

You glance down at Clara, the shortest of them all who's holding a bundle of clothes in her hands, "I'm not staying." You say.

"Alpha says you are so you must listen to him." It's said in a way as if you would, what Omega wouldn't follow an Alpha's orders? 

Except you. 

Only you sigh because what you want to say would be extremely rude and out of all the Omega's Clara was the most sensitive on a good day but the smell of honey and charcoal told you she was near a heat making her emotional. "We both know how much of a brat I am."

She frowns, "Alpha says..."

"You're in no state to have me here." She blinks, "Your heat is close." It should've obvious. 

"****, my heat was last month." 

On instinct your eyes drop from her gaze to her belly and back up to her eyes that looked utterly confused. "Clara..." Was it your place? "Maybe your Alpha should _taste_ you. Soon. Like now soon."

Color floods her face and she drops her gaze, "****!" Understanding making her embarrassed and scandalized.

"I'm just saying." Ugh. Maybe it would have been better if you hushed? 

"How can you be so - so - crude?" She shoves the clothes at you and you watch as she brushes past you and all but runs to the bathroom, door slamming. 

Sigh. 

One.

Two.

Three.

From the lump of men huddled the tallest asshole breaks away and you side step as the Alpha barrels past you to follow the trail of embarrassed omega scent.

Sigh.

Closing the door behind you, you sweep past the three men who ignore your existence and make it back into your apartment where the petals are swept away, the kitchen clean of candles and food, and most likely your room is bare of all bad memories. 

Black garbage bags sat against a wall and one of the Omega's - Gloria - was tieing one up. "What did you do?" 

Instead of answering instead you say, "Your Alpha needs you." 

She gives you a look before handing over your phone that was dead and left, taking the other Omega who was dragging a stuffed black bag behind her.

4 bags. 

That's how many bags that you dragged outside the apartment and those 3 men - all Betas - lingered - all purposely ignoring one another. 

Well. Them ignoring you.

After such a long time it didn't hurt as much as it once did. One last sweep through your apartment to make sure it was empty of all evidence you shut your door, back pressed against the wood as you listened to the low murmurs of the men outside. The rustle of bags and even a chuckle had you sliding down to sit indian style. Silent tears fell and you couldn't fight them. 

This was your fault.

This is what you wanted.

This is what needed to happen. 

Rubbing your forearm you tried to ease the constant itch that had bothered you since Steve had touched you. It came and went and it was enough to distract your thoughts as you pushed the past evening out of your head, wiping the tears away.

You could do this. 

Stomp down the feeling of paranoia, the anxiety of not being safe and the panic of being watched. Although you were sure any cameras and microphones that were hidden around were the first to go and probably even tucked in someone's pocket. 

Standing, the best way to move past **this** was ice cream. Grabbing a pint - Cookie dough - you made yourself comfortable on the couch.

Tomorrow you'll go shopping to replace the shit that had to be tossed away. Tonight you'll watch a sappy movie and cry into your ice cream and maybe take something to knock you out so you didn't have a nightmare.

.

It had to be the longest month. 

Well, 36 days in fact, of being stalked. The type of stalking that didn't really creep you out. Yea it was weird but the Omega in you preened while the very modern 21 century you wanted to bang your head on the tabletop and wish you could just move.

They would follow you.

You're sure of it.

It felt like a group effort. Between your job at the gentleman's club which ended days ago, delivery hopping, clinic visits, it couldn't possibly be one person... Right? While you never saw _them_ , you _felt_ them. Your arm an annoying itch!

Ugh!!

Tonight was your first free night with a full day off, it was a blessed treat, and of course your roommate had nagged his way into convincing you to 'go out' and have 'fun'. Sitting home and bingeing Criminal Minds wasn't _fun_ enough. 

Jeremy pops his head out of his closet and you sit on the edge of his bed in trepidation. Judging by his expression, regret hits you. Agreeing to join him in the Underground and for him to dress you. God help you. 

"Soooo, normally I would say no underwear but I'd suggest it with this." 

Regret. So much regret.

He pulls out... "What the fuck is that?" A [bra](https://images.app.goo.gl/8NyyykhTu7Y7AEJK8). "Dicks?" Two cocks made up the cup, extending upwards enough for a pair of female hands with pointed nails curling around them in an obscene imitation of a hand job. Maybe. Possibly. Where did he find this shit?!

"I knew you'd love them." Oh no. No. Please no. "And this!" **This** was a high waist fish net, pant thing, that covered nothing while at the same time would probably fit over your ass. Maybe. It looked... Small. "Wear your Elvira underwear and black sneakers." He wiggles it as if he could hypnotize you into loving it.

Your _Elvira underwear_ was a thong that just covered your vagina with the words **Eat Me** embroidered and the double thin straps keeping it up met at the base of your spine in the shape of a [pentagram](https://images.app.goo.gl/bzGts7XYLGUF4uP66). The first and last time you wore it was for Halloween. "I'm gonna need Jesus in the morning." Is all you can say as you stand and take the _clothes_. 

"He's two floors down and would fuck the sin right out of you." Jeremy bounces back into his closet, voice muffled. "Remember the goal is to get fucked tonight and live before we're too old and fat."

"I'm already too fat to wear this shit." A hanger is tossed at you and you dodge it before saying fuck it and dressing up for the night.

Tequila. Tequila would help. 

.

Adulting. What Adulting?

You told yourself no drinking. 

Lies.

You told yourself no drugs.

Lies.

The music pumped and the crowd was a mass of skin and pheromones. You had lost Jeremy somewhere but it was ok. 

You were ok. 

Always ok.

Never better.

The lights were pretty and the world was a haze of no fucks to give.

Color, rainbows, washed over the crowd with you somewhere near the middle, hands touching you, leaving a trail of want and sweat in their wake. Tequila made your hips looser and spine bend, the pills tasted like tic tacs and you don't remember how many you took.

One... Two... Twelve... You wanted more. Chasing the high as your body burned through the effects faster than wanted. 

All that matters is the beat and moving to it. Men, woman, your ass grinds and hands move to touch and embrace. Lost in the crowd of swelling bodies, you're tucked between no fucks to give and a woman who smells of want, sweat, and clouds. She's aggressive - yes daddy - and her nails scratch down your side's, eyes to fluttering at the sensation.

Good... So good...

_"Come on, let the slut out tonight. No one will find you here."_

A smile touches your lips as your friends words bounce in your head. Always so careful to not trip and make a mistake you giggle as you break away from the lips that stole a kiss. 

Naughty, naughty.

Pulling away you twirl into the crowd and away, it wasn't what you wanted.

Clouds tasted funny.

A shout escapes you as you're tugged into someone's solid chest. Their hands grip your hips and a bulge digs into your backside as the man tries to whisper into your ear but the music is far too loud and he smells of ash. 

Yucky and bitter.

No.

He doesn't let you go. 

Lips quirking into a snarl you stomp on his foot and elbow him before moving along. 

Bad boy. 

The crowd screams as colorful paper confetti falls from the ceiling and large inflatable balls with lights are tossed into the crowd. 

It distracts you and you want to hug it.

A hand grabs yours and a familiar face is *there. Smooth like a sea lion, eyes a curious mix of magic blue and sea foam green, strong nose that crinkles as he speaks.

Alpha.

 _ **Alpha**_.

His words are meaningless but his eyes speak poetry and your hand grazes the ridge of his nose, causing his expressive eyes to widen, and that magic burst with his smile.

Beautiful.

Beautiful, pretty, Alpha. 

Fingers trailing lower to trace his speechless lips that move and quirk, you glance away to look down as that words carved in your arm darken. In the low colorful light of the crowd you can make out the outline of a script that brings you warmth and joy. 

_Alpha_.

In the haze that's the cocktail of tic tacs and liquor you'd later regret this moment. Sober you wasn't here, sober you would have lept backwards and kept your hands in your pockets, sober you will cuss yourself out later and promise.

Vow.

To never. Ever. Drink again. Do drugs again. You couldn't leave yourself this vulnerable again, but that's a sober issue when you glance at your arm in belated horror.

It would be too late then.

Fucked up you was far too entranced with the Alphas pretty smile and the warm weight of his arms. It felt natural to return the gesture, freely touching and desiring more. Eye's lidded and pupils unnaturally blown, you felt the intense urge to rub against him like a cat in heat. 

No.

Not cat.

A panther.

A fucking panther in heat.

The Omega peeking through your haze of no fucks given purrs in delight. She was a whore. A shameless slutty horny whore for Alpha knot that was aggressive enough to grab the shirt of the grinning Alpha, fingers curling into the fabric, and kiss him.

Ownership sealed with a clash of teeth, tongue, and spit. Warmth spread from your belly and lower, a heat of want and desire, insistent with the need to fuck. Moaning you climb the man, nails tearing into the fabric, his hands gripping your ass giving you purchase allowing your fingers to roam up into hair that's crunchy with product. He tastes like pepperoni pizza and you want the pie. 

A deep dish. 

Pulling away with a giggle, brows resting against one another, a flush of heat colors your face, his lips move and the beat of music swallows his word. 

You felt... light-headed... Free... Warm... Thirsty... Hungry... 

Fingers graze the bare skin of your back, leaving a trail of tingles. You shiver and grin as you lean in and rub your noses together in a Eskimo kiss, it was a different, cooler touch, it makes your arm itch. The Alpha grins, he has pretty lips, full and inviting, your body drops lower just enough for your startled lips to be captured in another kiss. He could have _dropped_ you. Naughty Alpha. Nipping his lower lip he returns the favor and you moan at the bite of pain before falling into his spicy, greasy, addicting taste.

The spare hand trails up your spin and you wiggle at the sensation. Your eyes open just enough to see a dark head of hair and a frustrated scowl before ignoring the interloper... But... No... Your hand reaches out to touch, it's awkward and your brow furrows at the effort.

"Clint!" A voice shouts.

A hand smacks you on the ass and the sting has you gripping your Alpha and moaning. 

Yes!

More!

Ignoring the cloud of frustration from the other Alpha you wanted to mold yourself to this one, the one that was gripping your ass and stealing your oxygen.

"Fucks sake." Arms wrap around your waist, the tingles following the aggressive touch and you're ripped free from the wet warmth. It _hurts_ , you needed more, wanted more, whining and reaching out to your Alpha, one hands grips the bare hand of the Asshole that took you away. 

It's a jolt that parts the sea of color and the smells of _Alpha_. It's a different sort of spice... Black pepper... Less picante but it made your nose twitch with the need to sneeze...

The hands that grip you are strong, keeping you against them but the insistent need for the other Alpha was quelled by a much newer urge to touch and claim in return. Pepper mixed with smoke and sweat... Pastrami... The hold loosens as you attempt to turn. Heart fluttering with the beat, your core temperature spiking further, your eyes lift to meet brown... dark like a barrel of well aged bourbon. 

Those hands roam gently down your side's, bare skin and the rough criss cross of your outfit. Touch, you **needed** to touch him. Arms lift and your fingers tangle into the short tuffs of hair at the base of his neck. His lips move to the beat of the music, Alpha, this one was yours too. 

The Omega peeking out preened. Two Alphas. Handsome and delicious. One a late night snack and this one a full meaty meal. You try for a kiss, you want to taste him like you tasted the other one but he frowns and leans away.

Naughty Alpha! Was he playing hard to get? You didn't _chase_. No. Alpha's chased **you**. Look at you? What Alpha would **dare** to deny you a claim? 

Gently he tugs at your arms and a small frown settles on your lips. Was he rejecting you? His fingers are long and his wrist is adorned with a shiny watch that catches your eye, pretty and shiny. With care he lifts your eye lids, leaning close enough you can smell his breadth and it was minty. 

A body stumbles into you, it's a new scent, new touches, he bares his teeth and you want to pluck them and make a pretty necklace to wear. Instead you grip his hands and lead him into the crowd where you can lure him into your den and ravage him later.

You, him, plus the other Alpha.

The thought is enough to make you drip. 

A beat picks up and the crowd swarms around but your attention is on the Alpha, he's as still as a statue and listless. Grinding against him, hips swaying, you can sense his hesitation. He grips at your waist, pulled away, caresses your hips, pulls away, stupid Alpha, trying so hard not to fall for you.

As if.

unabashed your spine bends forward and you shake your ass, twerking was an art you'd perfected since working at the gentleman's strip club. 

An alarm rings through the air, the crowd screams, lights shut off for an endless moment, strobe lights plunge the Underground in colors of the rainbow and a shower of glittering paper. Chase... Alpha's were meant to chase you, not you them.

"Where the fuck she go? Clint shouts to Tony who's frantically searching around, you were gone, again slipping away into the crowd. The other man growls and shoves his way through, they needed to find you. 

Sweat dripped between your breasts, temple, and chin. It was hot... So hot... Darting away from your Alpha's left you agitated and the crowd quickly lost its appeal and you didn't feel so good.

The lights made you feel like the world was _otherly_... Leaning against a spare bit of wall you scanned the blurred crowd for familiar brown and blue eyes. 

Just wiggling worms. 

Head thumping on the brick you stare up into the darkness that's criss crossed with colors. Lasers of light that reminded you of star wars. Lost in thought, the cool brick easing the heat that flushed your skin, the smell of burnt sugar and sweat crowds you.

A man hovers above you. Tall and imposing. Who Was this? Why were they touching you? It made your skin crawl, they weren't the hands you wanted. You try to wiggle free but your limbs feel oddly heavy, his hands, they were crushing and nasty as you were held in place.

Music washed away his words, his sour breadth made you nauseous. A grin stretches his lips and for a moment you notice how _pretty_ his skin looked tho you felt the urge to snarl. Orange, blue, purple, his hair moves reminding you of churning water. 

The pretty distracts you and you can see a heart shaped candy slipped between his teeth. Sugar. Sweet. Candy. Hunger. You were hungry. 

He leans in, your eyes on the heart, rancid peppermint was what you tasted as the candy was pushed into your mouth by a tongue that was sour and slimy. It makes you pull back and nearly choke on the candy but he pulls out a flask and you drink from it but sputter at the burn. 

Ugh.

Bad dog! 

Shoving at the Beta pushes him to twist his red face into a snarl and lash out with a closed fist. It's impossible for you to move quick enough but a larger man swoops in. 

_Alpha_.

Marshmallows.

Burnt sugar that reminded you of the confectionary over a fire. The Alpha was mad... Heated... Charred... He grabs at the Beta and knocks the man down with a solid punch.

The crowd of worms back away with a gasp you don't hear or care to know. Your gaze sticks to the impossibly tall Alpha with a cold hard gaze, his broad shoulders block the crowd, and your nose flares at his pure scent.

Sweat didn't damper his smell, it reminded you of a fresh bag of rainbow marshmallows as the anger cools.

You could lose yourself in all of him... _mine, all mine_... Runs circles in your mind and your Omega wants to tilt her throat and...

"Hey!" Jeremy darts between you and the Alpha, "Back off!" 

He grabs your hand and you stumble as he tugs all the while you try and keep your eyes on the Alpha that's following but the crowd swallows you as people get between you two. 

"Stupid knot heads!" Jeremy yells leading you down several steps that make you hesitate. Lava. They were churning steps of lava. Hoping down and nearly dying, he caught you with a worried expression. "Are you ok?"

_Yes_. 

Except the words don't tumble out, nodding he holds onto your waist and drags you to a less crazy part of the Underground where there are bathrooms, bars, and stalls.

One shot follows another and there's so many pretty lights, Jeremy's voice is like tinkerbell's and you hold onto him humming.

Nice... 

"Mi sirenita, what did you mix eh?" There's worry mixed with amusement.

"I'm guessing MDMA or Ketamine." A voice interrupts the moment.

Jeremy glares at the trio that stands off to the side, the one talking was Tony Stark, why that man was there and judging the pair was baffling. "This isn't a sideshow, fuck off."

"Jeremy isn't it?"

"Not interested." He snaps, eyes flickering between the three, you slip your arms around his was waist and sway each other, breaking his gaze as he danced with you, feet moving through the clouds as the world twirled and dipped, laughing.

"She's coming home with us." Clint follows the pair as the others do the same.

"**** initiated the bond." Tony tugs at the V of his shirt, revealing the pretty script of your name dark and bold along with Clint who lifted his shirt high to show the same name written along the curve of his ribs. "By law we..."

"Fuck your laws!" Jeremy stilled and smothered you close. Sweet and chocolate. Dark bitter chocolate. You nuzzle your nose at his sternum, "She died with you. Died!"

Licking at his bare skin you didn't taste chocolate. 

"It'll never happen again." Clint frowned, "You know who we are, we would **never** hurt her."

You felt yourself dragged backwards, "You will, you are! Just cause she's an Omega..."

Steve stepped forward, "She's **our** Omega." Blue eyes were like flints of ice as his gaze bore at you. " **Omega**." Your breadth hitches and the giggles cease. " **Come**." The words try and penetrate the haze but you shake your head.

Clint speaks next, " **Omega**." Your eyes swivel to the side where the Alpha is holding a hand out, face a dance of expression and purple complexion. " **Come**."

"Shhh." Jeremy whispers into your ear but you reach out to that hand, the Alpha was familiar, tasty. "Bailar conmigo."

"Hey!" Security comes in a pack of six men. 

Jeremy takes advantage by settling a look of panic on his face and yelling, "Help they're trying..."

"Arrest him! He's keeping us from our omega!"Tony snapped.

"She's not yours!" It took a few minutes for security to hear the story spun in the moment but in the end since Jeremy came with you he would leave with you as you were in no state to consent to anything. A bottle of water had been tipped into your mouth, it didn't taste like Pepperoni... Spicy... Sweet... Smokey... 

Later you would learn. How you tried to escape, how your friend tried to keep a hold on you, the Omega in you would rear it's ugly side and growl twisting his arm before ducking and dancing around the guards, just so you could throw yourself at the Alpha you were most familiar with. He'd hug you close and you'd lose yourself in another kiss before the world spins into a blur of action.

Much, much, later you'd apologize for creating a _scene_. The ensuing fight as the three men escaped the Underground. You don't know _how_ they managed it really. They would just shrug it off but Jeremy would at least look impressed.

Still latched to **your** alpha, you'd claim him, he was yours and your Omega loved being piggy back ride as your nose pressed against the bare skin and licked the beaded sweat, tasting. It's enough of a distraction that you don't notice that you're inside a jet.

Sober you would have reacted quite differently of course. Carefully Clint set you down on a ledge, he tried to leave you, no, bad boy, but you gripped his shirt and whined until he was pressed against you. 

"Not that I'm complaining," Clint gasped as you nibbled and sucked his throat, a bruise already forming. "She's wrecked."

"She's never leaving the tower again." Steve grumbled as he crowded close with a bottle of water and a straw, "A guy slipped her something before I could get to them."

Tony who was preparing the jet to fly snorted, "Of course. Of - fucking - course. Bruce is preparing the med bay."

"She's purring..." Clint's eyes fluttered as the sound penetrated deep into his chest and ignoring the two men who were **there** and pushing themselves close to get a part of it. Out of the triad he was the only one to get as close with you much to their frustration. "Almost as good as she tastes."

Tony smacked him on the back of the head playfully, "Pass her over."

"Nah." Sticking his tongue out he reached for Steve, "Come on, she didn't touch you yet hu?"

Passing over the water bottle Steve slipped himself between your legs as the other Alpha moved away. "Hey doll." He spoke gently, lovingly. Up close he could smell the liquor and in the bright lights of the jet notice your the blown pupils and yellowing of your eyes. "We'll take care of you. Promise."

The marshmallow scent was a cloud of soft sweetness and you wanted a closer taste. Your fingers tugged on his shirt but he wouldn't **move**. Closer, he needed to be closer. Whining in frustration you tore into the taut fabric and ripped. Sharp scent of arousal invaded your nostrils, leaning in to lick at his sternum he tasted of hints of smoke, cloves, and something else... Something... 

Steve moves, body tucked against yours, lips trailing upwards you can smell the first drips of sweat, salty to mingle with the marshmallows... Parmesan. His sweat tasted of parmesan cheese. 

Marshmallows mixed with parmesan.

Alpha.

 _Alpha_.

 **Yours**.

This one was yours, like the others were yours, three sly Alpha's for your Omega to debauch and lay claim to. Purring at the thought, heat once again building, you lick at his adams apple that bobs sucking harder on the flesh damp with saliva, you wanted to taste more of his flavors there was something just under... The... Skin...

"Fuck!" Steve's hand smacked down on the counter, denting the steel as you bit down. 

Hard. 

Teeth leaving an imprint and you tasted a hint of iron, salt, and _something_ that had your eyes widening before a fist gripped your hair and your mouth was assaulted. 

Teeth, tongue, spit, blood, the Alpha tasted earthy and you clung to the man, thighs wide and legs locking around him.

You felt the hard bulge and you ground yourself against him, "Steve... Steve... you can't fuck her."

A groan of disappointment escaped the soldier and you whined when he pulled away, not just from the kiss but **you**. 

Did you do something wrong?

No.

Yes...

No!

Whining you tried to hop off the ledge but another Alpha replaced him, he too kept a distance as his cool hand pressed against your brow and the urge to cry was overwhelming. "She has a fever." He mutters, facial hair swirling in a mockery, "Here love drink some water."

No. 

You didn't want water, you wanted, no, needed them, him, someone.

" **Drink Omega**." The Alpha Command agitates you and feels utterly wrong. How do you go from hot hot humid desire to cold steely demands?

Your body jumps back, a frown twitching down your lips and after a moment of glaring at the straw that was as wiggly as a worm you glared at the Alpha and growled. 

No.

A hand shoots out, quick like a snake, and wraps around your throat, it was cold, hard, through your eyes you can see his skin turning brittle and fracturing like a bat to ice.

This wasn't your Alpha.

"Tony..."

Your Alpha would **never**...

"No! She needs to learn her place."

The words bounced in your head and tickled something in your subconsciousness. A part of you screamed to submit, to bend your neck and bow but an Omega like you would never cower to appease an imposter. 

The soft and pleasant world you had been cocooned in collapsed into a haze of red. 

The haze was comfortable. 

It was a rush of adrenaline, it left your fingers dripping, and the hairs on your body raise as your muscles stretched and joints creaked. 

Your Omega was put and she was all claws and frustrations.

Who did these imposters think they were? Toying with your desires, your needs, wants, fuck them all.

Tbc...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If this was difficult to read or piece together I tried to keep it from getting too crazy. Omega's handle most drugs differently. 
> 
> Next chapter:  
> Bruce Banner.


	4. Aftermath of Fun

**WTF**

**Chapter 4**

> “You come to love not by finding the perfect person, but by seeing an imperfect person perfectly.” – Sam Keen

* * *

Bruce paced the room.

It was the only way he could remove the antsy feeling that made him unable to still. Over an hour had passed since he'd gotten the call that his - **their** \- mate was en route. Unfortunately **** was under the influence of a cocktail of party drugs and liquor.

Sigh.

Omegas weren't designed to handle drugs the way Betas or even Alphas could. Most drugs were a waste to Alphas while Beta's could consume them without care while those same drugs wreaked havoc in Omegas.

Over dosing was a _concern_ but a Omegas system could flush them quickly but the effects could leave them in a prolonged limbo of human vs primal.

Omega's were known to turn feral and hospitalization was limited in treatment. More than half Omega's - unmated - would be put down if they're stuck in that limbo. Their brains unable to come down from such a state without an Alpha's bite or a Betas touch.

Bruce bit his bottom lip, the name coming to him. How he could have forgotten irked him.

 ** Primal** **Reflex.**

A generic term to explain the switch from docile to primitive. Science could only explain so much in how an Omega's body altered physically one moment to the next. Sharpened nails, canines pointed and able to tear flesh from bone, inability to speak in coherent sentences. Sub drops and the like were a taste of it. Bruce had only seen rare footage of such cases, read journals and case studies where the details had even the Hulk quiet.

Not his mate.

Not ****.

_ /'Sir, the jet has landed and they should be arriving in approximately 8 minutes.'/ _

"Thanks FRIDAY." Worry gnawed at his gut. The A.I. had been the one to tell him **** had gone feral, maybe, possibly, and his other mate's had managed to contain her. A part of him wanted to **see** but Bruce wasn't sure if he was up to test his frayed control. When it came to ****, the Hulk was ready to burst out and protect.

A crew was still working on the damage the last time he'd Hulk'd out when his mate had been released back to her _brother_. The man... No... Bruce wouldn't dwell on the Intel he'd receive concerning Dei.

A car wash was a _great_ way to launder dirty money.

There's a _**swoosh**_ sound as the door opens. Startled, mouth agape, the back of his two Alpha's come through first, each holding to a leg as Steve is doing his best to hold onto **** arms.

Seeing them carry their mate like she was a sack of meat made his temples flare green but **** was struggling. Grunting and growling through a gag, lips and some of her face was already smeared with blood.

Blinking... Blinking again, "What the fuck is she wearing?"

Once the crazy scene processed

It wasn't the gag that was grit between her teeth that had Bruce upset.

Upset. Aroused. Confused.

The bra was just... No words. While her ass hung out with fishnets and a thong that should never coexist. Bruce was not a prude, he'd had his fair share of _fun_ when he was young and stupid but the thought that his Omega, his other half, was wearing... Uhh...

Well.

No.

"I thought you said she was heading to a club? Was she stripping?" God he hoped not. Bad enough she was working at one, Bruce didn't think he could handle **** on stage and degenerates tossing dollar bills at what was **his**.

"Rave." Tony grunted out as her foot caught him at his thigh, very close to the last place she had landed a kick. "With the amount of glitter she's covered in, the jet needs to be professionally cleaned."

"Wanna hose me down my sexy PhD?"

"Just put her down on the table." Ignoring the archer, Bruce watched as the triad reached said table where they would have strapped **** down except somehow the Omega was far more flexible and stronger than she looked.

The men at her feet were side by side, the table waist-high when she used Steve's grip to keep her steady as her legs pulled back, knees bending, and Bruce watched with a quiet awe as somehow - _somehow_ \- **** used the momentum to twist herself so she fell to the side with Steve following so she didn't snap herself in half.

"Shit!" Bruce winced as her foot caught the soldier in the face and he let her go and she was scrambling, face set in a deep scowl marred only by the gag. "****!" Bruce shouted watching as her steps faltered as she ran towards the door, "Ahhh love." He lowered his tone and her gaze swiveled to him, brows scrunched.

While Betas didn't have the ability to croon and sooth or pur in a way the other dynamics could, they were neutral in pack mateships. The natural balm to an Omega's frazzled nerves courtesy of the Alpha's and Bruce could spout statistics and reference papers but as he hopped into action he caught her by the arm, gripped the other that tried to hit him, and pulled her close.

**** Let out a grunt and growl before her nostrils flared to exhale then inhale deeply. She blinked like a sleepy cat, her body relaxing and falling against him. Bruce loosened his grip, her purr sending shivers down his spine and she pushed against him.

Then jumped on him.

Bruce swore as he hobbled back, both hands gripping her ass as she rubbed their cheeks together. "Uhh." Fingers carded through his hair and his glasses toppled to the ground but that was ok. **** was kissing him. Lips brushing against his own, gentle, soft, and Bruce side eyed the trio with a panic out-of-place look.

It wasn't everyday a woman jumped on you like a cat in heat.

"How am I the only one not getting kissed?" Tony glared half heartedly at the group before Clint grabbed the front of his shirt and tugged him in for a closed mouth kiss much to Steve's eye roll.

A tongue slipped between his lips and Bruce could feel that ever-present presence of the Hulk still beneath his skin and a noise escaped him. A noise only Alphas were capable of. **** pulled away, her head tilting to the side, curiously surprised. It was enough for Bruce to clear his throat and mutter, "Well. This is awkward."

"It's hot." Clint rested his elbows on the table and stared at the two with bouncing eyebrows, "She likes it when you spank her ass."

Steve heaved a sigh, "Can we not. **** isn't aware enough for consent. We're not animals, she wouldn't appreciate waking up with teeth marks in the morning."

"Technically we're well within our rights..."

Steve shot a glare at Tony who met it with a cocked brow. "We're not raping her."

"I didn't say we fuck her."

"Tony!"

"Steve." He mocked in return, "She initiated contact. Our marks prove she's ours and we're allowed to mark her until she _consents_ to a full bond or her first heat. Did you honestly believe I would fuck her while she's like this."

Tony gestures to Bruce and **** who's lips are pecking the mans face as the man stands there unsure. It was adorable.

"No of course not." Frustrated he watched as Clint sighed and moved away giving the pair the illusion of privacy. **** made a delighted sound as the Clint reached out to stroke her back. "I don't want to lose her." He admitted.

"You won't. She's our Omega."

"No, Tony, you don't understand. We can mark her and the law would be on our side but how do you think she'd react?"

The other Alpha opened and closed his mouth, eyes shifting from warm blue to the odd scene before them. **** was side kissing Clint as Bruce, still holding her, was nipping and sucking at her neck. "She dropped twice with us Tony. Our Omega died fighting us."

"Fuck." It was true but, "She'll leave us Steve, we can't let her leave. What if she doesn't come back?"

"She will."

"But..."

"No Omega can stay away from their mates for long. We need to be patient and let her come to us, she needs us as much as we need her." Steve reached out, fingers gripping the other man's chin and leaning in for their own kiss, "Time. We need to give her time and if that's not enough then we'll have her by her heat. She'll be ours."

"Alright. Alright." Rolling his shoulders Tony made himself relax, "you're right. She'll run and her brother would find a way to bomb this place."

"That's not funny."

"It's hilarious." Brushing past the soldier Tony clapped his hands, "Alright love birds, no sex."

It took some time and a lot of crotch adjustments but Bruce managed to get their omega to sit on the table as she refused to let him go. It was interesting how one moment she was ready claw eyes out but in the next because of him she was docile, loving, perfect.

Tony slipped a mask over her face much to her whine of disapproval and Bruce took her hands in hers as she used her shoulder to try to dislodge it. Quietly the Alpha pressed a button and the mask filled with a smoke that after a moment caused her to slump forward in sleep.

"I'm not comfortable with this." Clint frowned as **** was laid out on the table and the mask was gently removed.

"Me neither but it won't interact with anything in her system." Bruce turned and went to get his supplies. "Are we leaving her dressed like this or..."

Tony glanced at Steve, "Well?"

"Last time we had Natasha help her." The man said, "I don't want her freaking out like last time."

"Let's take off some of it and put her in a dressing gown. At least when she wakes up she'll have her underwear on. I mean, it was good enough to go out in." One by one Clint removed her shoes and tossed them to an empty counter.

"We'll draw some blood and go about detoxing." Bruce set about prepping her arm as Tony went about inserting an IV line for a saline bag. "Think she'd be mad if I rip out those dicks?"

In response Steve went about ripping part of it off and finishing the rest with a pair of scissors Clint handed him as the other man went about removing the fishnets.

It would take time and eventually **** was carried from the medbay to a room that was deigned as her own. It was sparsely furnished but the bedding and pillows had belonged to each man, their scents mingling and **** was being closely monitored by FRIDAY.

.

Clint was the first to wake and start the coffee which was a very rare thing. Maybe it was his anxiety and paranoia of what ifs. While the others nodded off one by one Clint couldn't do more than an hour or two before giving up.

While he could prance around with a chipper personality and positive outlook he was scared shitless. The others had fear that **** would run but Clint had an irrational fear that his Omega would asphyxiate in the middle of the night. Dying before they could be a family.

Ugh.

Hanging his head he stared at the floor grateful that FRIDAY wouldn't judge every time he asked how his mate was.

Alive?

_/'Yes, Sir.'/_

Breathing?

_/'Yes, Sir.'/_

Question after question. Then he would move onto the most important, "How's the brain?"

_/'Functioning properly.'/_

Clint can admit that he wasn't PhD smart like Tony or Bruce. All those big words dealing with Serotonin and Norepinephrine went over his head. Oh he knew the basic, thank you Google, but hearing the two men discuss the pitfalls of Suppressant usage... It frightened him.

Steve had balled his hands into fists as the other two men piggy backed their knowledge, jumping between science-headache-inducing words to basic jargon the pair understood.

Long term usage of Suppressants brought with it a weakened heart - which explains the heart attack - and a weakened immune system.

Top that with the deodorizer **** had slathered on that Natasha had to scrape the shit off... Clint was petrified **** would go into some form of shock as that poison was purged from her body.

A process he didn't want to think about. The blood... So much blood transferred as much as it was put in and though **** was unconscious she still suffered a seizure.

Fear.

It was an emotion he was allowed to feel. Two near deaths - one with a short death - made that primal part of him stand to attention and stay on high alert.

He couldn't lose her.

Clint didn't think he would survive that. He'd already lost so much, had done so much good, didn't he deserve his own happy ending? Of course the others were just as selfish but he couldn't help it.

He wanted her, not for the sex, but companionship. A mate that could give him love and maybe children later. Kids he could raise better than he had been, safe, happy, cared for.

Family.

That's all he ever wanted, hoped for.

The far too fancy coffee pot sputtered the last drops and Clint poured himself a half cup. The first sips had to be untainted, pure liquid black gold, bitter and scalding.

_/'Sir, Omega **** is stirring.'/_

The mug was left as he rushed to the guest room. The door had been left open giving him an unabashed view of **** sitting up and staring at her arm. The arm where the faint names of her mates was dark and eligible. "No." It was faint and Clint had to force himself to not cry.

He wouldn't.

Later he might but now he'd gently tap on the door and say, "Morning."

**** gaze swirled to him and she looked sickly. Scared and sickly. Great. Fuck. "What..."

"Do you remember last night?" Her gaze dropped, eyes moving side to side as she thought before shaking her head no. "You took a lot of drugs."

"The Rave."

Clint stepped into the room and **** pushed herself back until she was against the wall, watching him. "Your friend Jeremy." She glanced down at her clothes, the pajamas clearly not what she remembered. "We just slipped those over your underwear."

"Uhh... I should go."

"Not until you're cleared by Bruce."

"You can't keep me here against my will!"

Clint paused, unsure if he should sit on the bed or in a chair. He chose the chair that was set purposely by the bed. "You're right, we can't. As much as I want you to stay so I can spank some sense into you, I can't." Calm. Breathe. "Do you know how fucked you were last night? Drugs and alcohol are a death sentence to Omega's."

"Heroine and Meth would kill me. Not Ecstasy or vodka."

"Someone slipped you a date rape drug ****." He crossed his arms at his chest. "Thankfully it doesn't work as well for us or God knows where you could have ended up. Raped in some bathroom or sold off."

**** pulled a leg up, arms going around it. "Nothing would have happened." Clint stared, gaze hardening, and **** sighed. "The Underground is owned by the Family. Bathrooms are monitored and no female or male omega is allowed to leave without confirming they're leaving with who they came with. I'll be sure to tell my brother and he'll check the camera's, the issue will be handled."

"It's been handled."

**** gave him a look, "We handle shit differently than you."

Clint had to look away, jaw clenching. "So it's true then. Your family is some gang?" His mate wasn't part of that lifestyle. She couldn't.

"Gang? A _gang_ are stoop kids who rob you for cigarette money. La Familia is much more organized and we take offence when rapists and pedophiles try shit in our territory."

"****."

"Are you really begging for a perverts life?"

Clint hesitated and her face twisted into a scowl, "No." She scoffed at his answer, "I don't want you involved in that stuff is all. It makes me anxious thinking my mate is putting themselves in danger."

"Mira, no soy idiota." Clint knew enough spanish to understand her. She wasn't an idiot. "Where's Bruce, I need to go home."

"He's sleeping." Holding up a hand to keep her from interrupting," Him and Tony were up half the night for you. He needs the rest and Steve is good for paper cuts not vitals."

"I'm fine." She says and Clint takes a moment to look her over. Really look. " **Omega**." Her spine stiffen and her eyes narrow. " **Sit**." Her lip twitched upward and he could see a bit of teeth as Her fingers curled into her pants leg as Clint patted the section of the bed closest to himself.

"I'm no dog." She ground out.

She was trembling, fighting the simple command. Feisty. "No but we both know as your Alpha I'm your bitch." She's startled enough that her body moves, crawling atop pillows and blanket, before sitting on the edge. Bare feet touching the ground and she's hunched over but your gazes are locked. Even now she refuses to lower them.

Clint fell in love. Again. The urge to kiss her, to taste her lemon and cotton candy /taste was... "No more lies ****." Silence hung between them, her eyes shifting to take every line and pore before meeting his own again and tilting her chin up. Clint wanted to knot her. Hard. Deep. "How do you feel?"

"Fine. Never better." **** drew herself up, sitting with her hands folded on her lap. All that was missing was a table and tea between them.

The chair was made especially to hold the weight and strength of Alpha's, there was no need to sit with caution as most furniture was built for Betas. Leaning back, chair balanced on it's back legs, Clint stared up at the ceiling willing not only his arousal down but the urge to pin his mate down and bite until she submitted.

If he felt this way, as the one Alpha in the group who was considered mellow, Clint couldn't wait to see how the others would handle her. "Fine. You feel fine?" She answered with a hum, "No nausea? Achy limbs? Dizziness? Blood transfusions usually leave Omega's feel ill."

**** was quick. The chair slammed down with a loud thump as her hands gripped his knees and Clint couldn't help but rumble at the smell of fear. Her gaze bore into his, "Transfusion is shit for drugs. Is this some sick way to keep me here? Make me weak so you can all what? Gang rape me?"

Panic and fear twisted her scent to sour bitter lemons. Her eyes were wide and if he looked too close he could see her eyes wet on the verge of panicky tears. Ah fuck. Clint settled his hands atop hers, light and gentle. By now he knew she was one of those people that would aim for the throat and run so he prepared himself. "How else do you remove that poison from your system."

Poison.

Clint expected to be shoved back into his seat as **** tried to make her escape. Gripping her hands was instinct but she used that to pull him to her and with a strength of the gods - how the fuck she did what she did - **** used her knee and foot to tilt the world upside down and fly over her to land awkwardly against the bed and wall.

His grip had loosened and **** was scrambling up and off the bed as Clint groaned in pain and confusion.

**** ran, legs wobbly as the world spun. She was nauseous and felt off but making it into a living area she could hear three sets of feet storming from elsewhere. Stumbling and falling up some unnecessary steps to get to an elevator, **** swore.

"*Omega!" The force of two Alpha's and her beta screaming at the same time made her knees buckle - fuck biology - but she was up. The elevator was right *there but **** wasn't a basic bitch. There was a reason why she made it as far as she did.

The punch wasn't as hard as she normally could throw but it connected with one and so did her elbow, followed by a shove. Hands up ready to take them all on... **** face shifted "fuck." And sat on the floor. Ok. So She wasn't fine. The urge to vomit was strong. "One minute and I'll finish kicking your ass." Dropping her head into her hands she breathed through her nose and exhaled stale liquor. That's right, she's a hot fucking mess.

Tony flexed his jaw, that had hurt. "Why the face? Always the face."

Rubbing at his chest Steve looked over Bruce who was sitting on the floor looking over the scene with a grin, "You said she would be bedridden."

"*She is right here." **** laid herself on the ground, the cool wood easing her aches, "Fuck you all."

"Language."

**** flung out a middle finger before dropping her arm with a smack, "Ugh."

Steve hovered above her, "I'd pick you up but you might throw up on me."

"Let me wallow in my filth in peace please."

"You do smell." Tony stepped up and Steve wacked him in the arm, "Ow!"

"God I know." She'd admit that. Mess. Such a mess. "Mimosa. I want a mimosa."

"No alcohol." Steve frown.

"It's orange juice. Gives me the strength to finish what I started." **** flung an arm over her eyes, "Grab me by my feet and drag me into the bathroom please." No one moved as both Alpha's above her eyed each other.

From across the room Clint limped inside, "She got you two?" Bruce lifted a hand, "You too? Nice toss by the way." **** thumbs upped. "Why are you on the floor?"

"Throw up. High."

"We're not dragging you love." Bruce brushed himself off and nudging Steve aside squatted and picked up **** who whined and pressed her face against Bruce's throat. "Later we'll discuss how dramatic you can be."

In response **** nipped him and the scientist laughed even though his skin where she bit bloomed green.

"So..." Tony looked around, "We're all going to ignore the obvious?"

"What, that our little Omega is like a Chihuahua on meth?" Tossing himself on a couch Clint groaned, "Dam, shes strong for an Omega."

"Shh..." Steve hushed the duo, his head cocked, listening. As long as the doors remained open he could hear the muffled conversations. "She's not fighting him."

"She won't. Bruce has more weight than us, Beta and Omega relationships are weird." Making his way to the kitchen for coffee, Tony wondered how long it would take for breakfast to be delivered.

TBC...

Next: Recap in reader's pov and a taste of bruce/reader

Again - **** is my version of y/n and y/l/n which is a pain in the ass to type ♡♡♡♡


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